


Smoke signals

by victorialukas



Series: Lost & Found [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin is not the chosen one, Anakin isn't married to Padme but they're buds, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Human Disaster Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Obi-Wan Kenobi isn't on the Jedi Council, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Temporary Amnesia, That's Not How The Force Works, no betas all mistakes are mine don't @ me, obikin, so idk we're in the Clone Wars universe but I am taking some liberties, that would get in the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorialukas/pseuds/victorialukas
Summary: A severe concussion causes Anakin to lose most of his memory. Luckily, Obi-Wan is there to guide him. Things get complicated, however, when Anakin finds himself totally smitten. Obi-Wan feels the same (and he has loved Anakin for quite some time), but he's not sure if Anakin's feelings are genuine or just injury-induced.
Relationships: A touch of platonic Anidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Lost & Found [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844962
Comments: 88
Kudos: 431





	1. An open wound

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I will never write a multi-chapter obikin fanfic. I just can't compete with what's out there.  
> Also me: Plans out amnesia troupe fic in the shower.
> 
> This is a short-ish chapter, I know. I have a bunch of dialogue written but I'm trying to feel out whether or not it's worth finishing. Rating may go up, but no promises bc I am...shy.

Anakin’s presence in the Force was weak.

This wouldn’t have been unusual, Obi-Wan realized, if they were light-years apart. But as it was, Obi-Wan sat in one the Jedi Temple’s meditation chambers while his former padawan was being treated in the Halls of Healing not far away.

“He’s in no condition for you to see him,” the healers had told Obi-Wan. “We’ll have someone contact you the moment he’s awake.”

That was two days ago.

Anakin had recovered from severe injuries before: his right prosthetic arm was evidence of that. This time, however, words like “traumatic brain injury” were being tossed around. _This wouldn’t have happened if I’d been with him_ , thought Obi-Wan. _Anakin is too headstrong. He needs somebody to keep him grounded, lest he fly right into the most dangerous point of battle_.

“Master Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes blinked open. “Ahsoka,” he replied, forcing a smile.

Anakin’s padawan looked as if she hadn’t slept since she returned to Coruscant with her wounded master. As much as they were known to butt heads, it was clear to Obi-Wan that Ahsoka idolized Anakin like an older brother. Anakin, for his part, cared for Ahsoka more than he’d ever admit.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“I can’t,” said the Togruta girl. “I just feel like I’m going to puke all the time.”

Obi-Wan gave up on feigning meditation—brooding wouldn’t help him, anyway. He rose to meet Ahsoka in the middle of the room. “Oh, young padawan. Anakin won’t be happy if he wakes up and you’re too weak to spar.”

“The healers say if he doesn’t wake up tomorrow, he might never,” Ahsoka’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Master Obi-Wan, I know we are not supposed to get attached, but—”

“Hush,” said Obi-Wan, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Ahsoka nodded, keeping her lips tight together. She seemed like she might burst out crying at any moment.

“At least get yourself some water. Try to rest. I’ll go to the Halls. If I have to wake Anakin up myself, I will.”

“Yes, Master.”

* * *

It took Obi-Wan’s best “General voice” for the healers to let him through. “I won’t take no for an answer,” he said.

Even though he’d put on a brave face for Ahsoka, Obi-Wan was as sick with worry as she was. Maybe more so. The thought of Anakin _not_ waking up was too much for him to even consider. Their relationship wasn’t always easy, but Obi-Wan had come to see it as a constant, dependable thing. Yes, Anakin could be rash, foolish and selfish, but he was also a fierce ally. The bond between them had grown and shifted as Anakin got older, growing from a padawan to an equally frustrating Jedi Knight. For better or worse, they were equals now. And if a Jedi were allowed to have a best friend, any of them would be so lucky to have Anakin. For all his faults, Obi-Wan knew there was no one better to have guarding his back. They’d even joked about running a tally to keep track of how many times they’d saved one another: “That way, we could keep it even. You could look up the chart and say, ‘Ah, looks like I’ll have to stop a laser beam from hitting the boy’s face today,’” Anakin had teased. But Obi-Wan hadn’t been there to stop whatever had happened two days back. He hadn’t even wanted to be briefed on it. He’d seen Anakin get knocked on his ass plenty of times (they were in the middle of a _war_ , for Sith’s sake) and Obi-Wan shed a fair share of his own blood, but this time was different. He couldn’t bring himself to conjure a mental image of what Anakin had gone through to get to this point, teetering towards death.

Obi-Wan entered the healing room, which shone with unpleasant fluorescent lighting and smelled like acidic disinfectant. Anakin looked more peaceful than Obi-Wan had ever seen him: even in sleep, nightmares tended to torment the younger man. There, unconscious on one of the Halls’ many beds, Anakin didn’t have a care in the galaxy. _You have no idea you’re barely clinging to life_ , Obi-Wan thought bitterly. He pulled a chair so close to the bed his knees touched the side of the mattress when he sat down. He closed his eyes, doing what he could to block it all out–the lights, the voices of the healers, his own mounting anxiety—and he reached out through the Force. Anakin’s energy was waning, no doubt, but it was still there. If Obi-Wan could only connect with him...

_Anakin. It’s me. I don’t know if you can feel me, but I need you to snap out of this coma. Ahsoka is a wreck. I’m not much better_ …

Time crept forward. At first, Obi-Wan wondered if he was imagining it when Anakin’s force signature slowly became more pronounced. Then, as Obi-Wan scanned Anakin’s still body, he noticed his former padawan’s fingers—the ones of flesh and bone—were twitching. He opened his mouth to call for a healer, but no sound came out. 

_I’m here, I’m here. Come back to me._

Anakin’s eyes opened as if he’d taken in every word. But something wasn’t right. He appeared lost as a droid without a master. He turned to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze, the vacant and confused expression still on his face.

“Anakin,” breathed Obi-Wan. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I…don’t know.”


	2. When I see you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good news: Anakin is awake. The bad news: Well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd we’re back. I expect my chapters will be below average in length but hopefully that means I’ll update more quickly? Also, I just wanted to note that while this takes place in the Clone Wars universe, I’ve taken some liberties with canon. Jedi dorms are pretty sweet, for one thing. But that’s what fanfiction is for, no?

The healers had rushed Obi-Wan out of the room before he got much of a grasp on what was happening. That said, he could breathe a little easier knowing Anakin was going to live. He couldn’t help noticing, though, that Anakin’s Force signature remained more muted than usual. It was stronger than it was while he was comatose, sure—but it still wasn’t characteristic of the Anakin he knew. If Anakin’s presence usually felt like a supernova, what Obi-Wan sensed now was hardly more remarkable than a comet. He didn’t know what that meant. And he certainly didn’t like it (the feeling _or_ the not knowing).

Obi-Wan, being the (generally) rule-abiding Jedi he was, did his best not to dwell on things. When Anakin was a teenager, Obi-Wan was always the first to remind him: “Guilt, fear, worry—these things do not serve you.”

As he sat in the common area of the Knights’ quarters, Obi-Wan found it impossible to follow his own advice. He’d already had to toss two cups of tea, as he’d over-steeped the leaves after losing track of time, trapped in his mind. He wrapped his hands around his third attempt and didn’t have to wonder why none of the other Jedi were trying to speak with him: he could only imagine what a wretched mess he looked. He was surprised, then, when Mace Windu approached him.

“General Kenobi,” said Windu. “The healers relayed Skywalker’s condition to Master Yoda, who asked me to pass the information on to you.”

Obi-Wan almost didn’t want to ask. “How bad is it?”

“Well, it could be much worse,” Windu said with a shrug. “However, there’s no doubt the damage is serious. Skywalker remembers...very little. He knows his name. Not much else.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought. This was serious, indeed. Anakin was a loose cannon at the best of times.

“What happens now?”

“Once Skywalker is stable, he will return to his quarters. Hopefully by tomorrow,” said Windu. “The healers expect he will recover, but that could take time. Months, even. In the meanwhile, he’ll need someone to keep an eye on him. Master Yoda figures that should be you.”

“Yes, that is perhaps for the best,” agreed Obi-Wan. He knew Anakin better than most and, if he was being honest, he wouldn’t trust many other people to oversee his former padawan’s recovery. 

“It would be too overwhelming for him to appear before the entire Council,” Windu continued, “so Master Yoda will meet with him alone, explain the circumstances as best he can. After that, I expect you’ll have your hands full.”

“All of Anakin’s spirit with no memory of his training,” mused Obi-Wan. “This will be interesting, to say the least.”

* * *

Day slipped into evening on Coruscant. The Jedi Temple, though full of younglings, padawans and knights, seemed eerily empty to Obi-Wan. He and Anakin were almost never separated except for the rare occasions when they were on different missions. Even then, they stayed in close contact—it was necessary to keep the younger man on task.

 _I’d better find Ahsoka_ , thought Obi-Wan. He wasn’t sure when Anakin would be released from the Halls of Healing, but if she ran into him before Obi-Wan did, she’d be in for quite a shock. He didn’t bother passing by her dorm, venturing instead to the corridor of training rooms. Early evening was a popular time of day to train, so Obi-Wan had to stick his head in a number of doors before he spotted the teenager. Other padawans and knights milled about the room, but Ahsoka has opted to practice alone. Seeing her focused, balanced and calm, Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. Her form was much improved, even compared to a few weeks back.

A minute or two passed until Ahsoka took notice of Obi-Wan. He felt a pang of guilt for invading her space with the intention of bringing bad news. Still, she had a right to know, and he couldn’t very well rely on the Council to tell her. Perhaps it would be easier to take coming from someone who cared for her as Anakin did.

“Ahsoka, might I have a word?”

“Sure, of course,” she replied, setting her ’saber in its holster. It was hard to believe she was already fifteen, even though her wisdom exceeded her years.

“Maybe we should sit down,” Obi-Wan suggested, tilting his head towards the side of the room where fellow Jedi were resting or stretching. He didn’t need to coddle Ahsoka—that much, he knew. All the same, he wanted to be gentle.

Once they hunkered down in one of the training room’s quieter corners, Obi-Wan started to speak. He didn’t even get a full word out.

“Is he OK?” Ahsoka blurted, already anticipating this was about her master.

Obi-Wan’s chest tightened. “Yes, and no,” he said. He launched into the explanation Mace Windu had given him earlier that day, taking extra care to emphasize “ _the healers expect he will recover_.” When he finished, Ahsoka didn’t respond, staring past Obi-Wan at nothing in particular.

 _I may as well have slapped her across the face_ , Obi-Wan thought. “Ahsoka, are you quite all right?” he asked.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. “Spar with me?”

Pouring emotions into a spar—that was an Anakin move. Although Obi-Wan wasn’t sure it was the healthiest tactic, he conceded there were worse ways to let anger out. He resisted the urge to smile.

“It would be my honour,” he said.

Obi-Wan hadn’t sparred with Ahsoka in ages. She moved slowly, with strength and purpose, like an oncoming storm. She could turn on a dime, however, and switch to dealing blows swift as bolts of lightning. Her fighting style was eerily similar to Anakin’s and, if Obi-Wan closed his eyes, he could’ve easily imagined his former padawan in her place (not that he’d be dumb enough to close his eyes while going toe-to-toe with Anakin _or_ Ahsoka).

During spars, they typically used wooden batons in place of sabers, in case the faux battle got aggressive. Good thing—because the moment Obi-Wan let his guard down, Ahsoka snapped the baton behind his ankles.

_THUD._

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been knocked on his back like this. It was hard to say how much of it was due to Ahsoka’s skills, versus Obi-Wan’s lack of focus.

“Why, Master Obi-Wan,” said Ahsoka, her voice bright and teasing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say your mind was elsewhere.”

Ah, right. She’d inherited Anakin’s sarcasm, too. Then again, Obi-Wan figured he ought to shoulder some of that blame himself.

“You caught me,” he quipped in return. “Even the most disciplined Jedi Knights have their thoughts wander once in a while.”

Ahsoka extended a hand to help him from the ground. “Best two out of three?”

* * *

Usually, after padawans were knighted, they’d venture out on their own paths away from their former masters. Jedi were never meant to be soldiers. The Clone War changed all that. It didn’t take great knowledge to realize that masters and ex-padawans made good brothers-in-arms: they knew how to coordinate, anticipate one another’s moves, and even tag-team negotiations. Such partnerships benefitted the Republic’s war efforts. What’s more, Obi-Wan and Anakin were even more in-tune than the average master/padawan pair. So, instead of getting thrown to opposite ends of the galaxy, Obi-Wan and Anakin were thrown together. Mission after mission.

Obi-Wan had gotten far too used to it. So used to it, in fact, that three days without speaking to Anakin was agony. That morning, Obi-Wan was preparing to go about the routine he’d kept lately: tea ( _staring into hot water worrying about Anakin_ ), meditation ( _thinking about Anakin_ ), breakfast ( _losing his appetite because of anxiety over Anakin_ ), physical training ( _you get the idea_ )…

Lately, Anakin’s voice even echoed in his head—and not in a Force bond way. As a result, he almost dismissed what he heard next as a daydream.

“Obi-Wan?”

He looked up from his now-cold tea, towards the open door of his quarters. _Oh, Force_. It was Anakin. He was pale, gaunt and bruised, with a bacta patch over his left temple. But it was _him_.

“Anakin,” breathed Obi-Wan. He rose from his seat, unsure whether he should approach further. “Do you, uh, know me?”

Anakin’s tall frame shifted awkwardly in the doorway. “Only a little. I know what Master Yoda told me.”

Obi-Wan nodded. Part of him still imagined this whole ordeal was a nightmare, or some kind of elaborate practical joke. The reality of it was too painful to face. “So, you really don’t remember anything?”

“If I try, I can imagine shapes. Voices. But it’s all fuzzy, like I’m seeing it through heavy mist. And if I push myself too hard to conjure a memory, my head throbs,” explained Anakin. “The healers said I might find positive triggers, though. People and things that will help me recover. I think you may be one.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I recognized your face right away. When I woke up. I just...couldn't place who you were.”

Obi-Wan’s heart swelled. For the first time since he’d heard of Anakin’s injury, he dared to be hopeful.

“I won’t push you,” said Obi-Wan. “But whatever you need, I’m here. Council has relieved me of my other duties for at least the next several days. I’ll do what I can to help.”

It felt so strange, talking to Anakin like this. They’d been in each other’s lives for more than thirteen years, and all of a sudden, they were practically strangers. Those early days now seemed so far away to Obi-Wan. He wondered how Qui Gon Jinn had quickly earned the trust of that child on Tattooine, and he found himself asking his deceased master to grant them strength for days ahead.

“I’m gonna... go back to my quarters. Sleep for two days and I’m still exhausted.” Anakin cracked a smile, but it wasn’t genuine. He still wore that lost expression he had upon opening his eyes in the Halls of Healing. “I’ll come by tomorrow?”

Obi-Wan didn’t want Anakin to leave—he’d just gotten him back. But what could he say?

“Yes,” replied Obi-Wan. “Please do.”

Thankfully, Anakin closed the door behind him. Once the sound of his footsteps faded down the hall, Obi-Wan sank to the floor. He covered his mouth to stop the sobs that escaped from his throat, at first, but soon gave up. He was allowed to weep at least once in the midst of all this, he decided. He didn’t even know if they were tears of relief or sorrow. After all, he hadn’t _really_ gotten Anakin back. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who commented on Chapter One made me excited to continue. You are sweet blessed angels. I promise I’ll have more Obikin interaction in the next chapter—seeing them really get reacquainted will be its main focus. I just wanted to give Anakin some time for a BIT of a solo recovery. And I enjoyed writing a bit of introspective Obi-Wan. I like to think he’s in his feelings more than we know, he’s just good at hiding it. I’m not sure how much more Ahsoka I’ll include going forward, but I love her (and she’s Obikin’s daughter as far as I’m concerned lolololol).


	3. North star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin struggles towards finding out who he is. Obi-Wan does what he can to guide him home while wrestling with emotions of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back to this little fic of mine! I was going to make this chapter a little longer but decided to move the next scene to a subsequent chapter, and I really wanted this one posted this weekend. Anyhoo, here’s your order of Obikin, heavy on the pining with a side of fluff and a sprinkling of angst.

The following day, Obi-Wan found himself nervous to see Anakin again. He shuffled around his dorm aimlessly, still too much of a mess to eat anything substantial. He tried to tell himself the feeling was ridiculous: he’d spent time around Anakin day after day for years. There was no point in wringing his hands like a teenager before a date. But if he thought about it, Anakin—this version of Anakin—hadn’t been around Obi-Wan much at all _._ Would their dynamic be completely different? Or would they, somehow, fall back into the friendship they’d previously had?

When Anakin showed up at his door later that morning, Obi-Wan briefly imagined that they were back in time—weeks ago—and he could talk with Anakin the way he always did.

Instead, he asked, “How’s your head?”

Anakin shrugged. “It’s not painful anymore. Just a dull ache. More annoying than anything else.”

He looked remarkably normal, relative to the day before. His face had some colour back and his eyes held a hint of the liveliness that was so familiar to Obi-Wan.

“Come in, then,” Obi-Wan said with a smile. “Take a seat and I’ll make tea.”

The Jedi Knight dorms were not anything grand: a place to sleep, a place to meditate. It made sense, seeing as Jedi didn’t spend a great deal of time in their rooms under usual circumstances. There was, however, a counter with a stovetop where Obi-Wan could boil water, as well as a shelf for him to keep his tea. So, it suited him just fine.

Anakin sat crossed-legged on one of Obi-Wan’s meditation cushions, regarding his former master all the while. “For someone who renounces attachment to possessions,” he quipped, “you have quite the variety of tea leaves.”

“They don’t count,” Obi-Wan said simply.

Anakin snorted. “Says who? Yoda?”

“It’s too early for you to be talking back,” Obi-Wan replied as he filled the kettle, but he couldn’t hide his grin. _He’s still Anakin_. “Tell me what kind you’d like.”

“I don’t know. Green?”

Now it was Obi-Wan’s turn to laugh. “You hate green tea. You told me it tastes like grass.”

“Well then, I was probably right. You pick. Something I won’t want to spit out.”

After putting the kettle over heat, Obi-Wan peered at the glass jars lining his shelf. Black teas were Anakin’s favourite, but he was wary of the effect caffeine might have on someone with a traumatic brain injury. Anakin used to tease Obi-Wan frequently for being a tea snob, though he really wasn’t. He just knew the difference between Yunnan and Keemun, unlike _some people_. Eventually, Obi-Wan settled on a white tea for the both of them. The room was almost silent now, save the sound of the water starting to bubble.

A few quiet minutes later, Obi-Wan joined Anakin, passing him a cup of tea before taking the meditation cushion across from him. Anakin looked at him expectantly, but Obi-Wan was at a loss for where to begin. They sipped their tea in unison.

“I’ve had this before,” Anakin said, narrowing his eyes at the cup in his hand.

“Er, yes. Many times,” replied Obi-Wan. The pair looked at each other and Obi-Wan realized that his nervousness earlier was perhaps warranted. This _was_ a lot like an awkward date.

“You are unlike any other Jedi. The strongest in the Force I’ve ever known,” he said suddenly.

“Wow,” said Anakin, taken aback. “Uh. Thanks?”

“It’s not exactly a compliment,” cautioned Obi-Wan. “I mean, it’s important I remind you how to control it.”

“Right.”

“For the average person, the Force doesn’t have much impact on their life. Or so they think,” explained Obi-Wan. “Imagine being a fish, constantly aware of the water surrounding you, while everything else in the sea goes about its business like it's of no consequence. That’s what being Force-sensitive is like.”

Anakin leaned forward, nodding and apparently absorbing everything the older man was saying. Obi-Wan saw something in his gaze that he hadn’t seen in years: curiosity. All padawans, even ones as stubborn as Anakin, started out with a sense of wonder. Unfortunately, many of them eventually became jaded. Although he was only twenty-two, the war had taken so much out of Anakin, and “Jedi” didn’t hold the same meaning it once had for him. There were so many questions, with all of them boiling down to, _If we’re so powerful, why can’t we do more? Why can’t we do_ _better?_ They were valid questions, to be sure. But still, there was something heartening about seeing Anakin taking in everything Obi-Wan was saying like it was brand new.

“It’s all around us. We live in it, we live through it and we’re shaped by it,” Obi-Wan continued. “But people like you, me, Master Yoda, Ahsoka—we can feel it. We can use it. And we must use it for good.”

“And that’s what the Jedi are for,” said Anakin. 

“Exactly,” said Obi-Wan, setting his cup of tea on the floor. “Now, first things first. I’m going to guide you through ten minutes of meditation.”

“I take it I’m not getting my lightsaber back today.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head back towards the ceiling. “What did I do to deserve this fate two times over?” He asked no one in particular.

“OK, OK. I’m shutting up,” Anakin smirked, then added, “Master.”

Obi-Wan sighed, looking back at the younger man. “Listen, Anakin. It’s imperative you remember how to use your powers,” he said. “If you don’t know how to put up your shields, for instance, you’d be incredibly vulnerable in a hostage situation.”

“Have I ever been in a hostage situation?”

Obi-Wan grimaced. “More than once.”

“...Ah. Gotcha.”

“Now, close your eyes. There’s nothing present here besides the Force, and the sound of my voice.”

* * *

Obi-Wan was still having a hard time sleeping at night. He stared at the ceiling, turning over every thought in his head. Earlier, he and Anakin came to an arrangement: they’d start off with a one-hour lesson once a day. Anakin still needed rest, despite his eagerness, and the last thing Obi-Wan wanted was for him to overexert himself. If the hour-long lessons didn’t give them any trouble, they would slowly increase them. Anakin, for his part, wanted to spar tomorrow. That request was met with a firm, “Ha, ha. No,” from Obi-Wan.

Anakin had so many questions: about the Force, about himself, even about Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. Obi-Wan wanted to answer them all, while at the same time wanting to ease Anakin into things. He was basically getting re-introduced to his whole life. It wasn’t going to be easy.

A quiet knock at the door brought Obi-Wan out of his mind and back into the room. The hour was late, so he could only assume the visit was urgent. He was surprised, then, when he hurried across the room and flung the door open to see, not a member of the Jedi Council, but Anakin. Seeing him stand there in his sleeping clothes with tousled hair awakened a feeling that started at the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and jolted all the way down his spine.

“Anakin,” he whispered. “Is everything all right?”

“Not exactly,” said Anakin, his eyes on the floor. “This is going to sound childish, but I keep having nightmares.” 

Calling what Anakin experienced “nightmares” was a bit of an understatement, as was the case for many Force-sensitive people. Even “night terrors” didn’t do justice to those visions, which caused the sleeper to feel physical pain and emotions along with seeing whatever images flashed in their head. Although Obi-Wan sometimes had such visions himself, he was certain Anakin had them worse.

“Hmm. Nightmares are not out of the ordinary for you, I’m afraid. Well, come inside.”

Anakin quietly slipped into the room. “I’m sorry, this must be so odd. It’s just that, well, I can only assume you’re a good friend.”

Obi-Wan buried the joy that came from Anakin saying such a thing. “How do you figure that?” he asked.

“You were there when I woke up,” said Anakin. He still wasn’t looking Obi-Wan in the eye. “You looked so drained, like you’d been up for days. You worried about me.”

“We’ve spent a great deal of time together,” shrugged Obi-Wan. “Here, sit down with me.”

"You’re not going to make me meditate again, are you?”

“I’ll spare you the immense suffering that is meditation,” said Obi-Wan, who took the same seat he’d taken that morning. “You never did care for it.”

“I mean, I don’t hate it,” Anakin offered, taking his place opposite Obi-Wan. “It’s nice, listening to your voice.”

Obi-Wan felt a touch of heat rising to his cheeks. It wasn’t like Anakin to compliment him so casually. “Tell me about your dreams,” he said, willfully changing the subject.

“That’s just it. I don’t even know how to explain them.”

“Do your best.”

Anakin furrowed his brow. “Well, there weren’t even images, really. It was all...emotions. Feelings. I could sense the heat and feel the texture of sand on my skin.”

"Tattooine,” said Obi-Wan. “The desert planet where you were born.”

“I think I hated it there.”

“That’s more than fair. Your childhood...I don’t believe it was an easy one.”

Anakin nodded. He hesitated, taking a deep breath before he spoke again. “Obi-Wan, I have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach. There’s so much grief and rage—and I don’t even know where it came from. It’s just there, like it’s part of my bones.”

Obi-Wan studied Anakin’s face, uncertain how to respond. He knew there was darkness in Anakin and he’d known it for a long time. But there was light, too: warmth, goodness and strength. He’d seen it in the way Anakin cared for Ahsoka, the way he defended his troops—and Obi-Wan could see it _there_ as well, even in Anakin’s exhausted appearance.

“I must be an angry, broken man,” Anakin continued. “That’s all I’ve been able to gather so far.”

Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “Hear me, dear one,” he said firmly. “You’ve lived through a great deal of pain in your young life. But your pain is not who you are.”

As they looked at each other, Obi-Wan pushed affection and reassurance through the Force. Anakin’s hard expression softened. 

“I could tell you so many stories,” said Obi-Wan.

“I’d like to hear them,” Anakin replied quietly. “Do you think—uh, could I stay here tonight?”

That was a bad idea. But how could Obi-Wan tell him no? “Of course.”

Once Anakin settled in bed next to him some moments later, Obi-Wan thought back to the handful of times they’d done this before. It hadn’t been often. Obi-Wan would wake up, sensing Anakin’s distress through the Force before he even knocked. He’d open the door to Anakin’s tired face with red-rimmed eyes, and it tugged at his heart to see him like that. Obi-Wan would let Anakin into his bed—sometimes he’d ask about the nightmares, other times he knew better than to say a word—and the two fell asleep in each other’s company. Nothing more ever happened. Anakin was always gone when Obi-Wan woke up (embarrassed, he figured). They never discussed it in daylight hours. 

Here and now, it was both like and unlike old times. The bed was just barely big enough for two, but as Anakin smiled sheepishly at Obi-Wan, he looked like he was meant to fit there.

“Where should I begin?” asked Obi-Wan. “Anything you would especially like to know?”

Anakin traced the scar by his right eye. “How’d I get this?”

“A woman named Ventress gave you that.”

“Oh, a _woman_. Is she cute?”

Obi-Wan stared blankly at him.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Anyway,” sighed Obi-Wan. “Ventress showed up on Coruscant looking for Quinlan Vos, a Jedi whose affinity for troublemaking rivals your own. But you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately, I wasn’t around to help you.”

“I guess it could’ve been worse, seeing as I lived,” said Anakin.

“Ah, so did Ventress. You told everyone she ended up running off with her tail between her legs, but I believe you were embellishing.”

Obi-Wan spent well over an hour regaling Anakin with stories from the last decade, until it became apparent that he wasn’t going to fall asleep while Obi-Wan kept the tales exciting. He decided to explain the most recent motion on the Senate floor: an incredibly dry trade issue related to meilooron fruit. Anakin’s eyelids drooped shut as Obi-Wan spoke, and eventually, his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. Anakin looked so peaceful in dreamless sleep.

“Goodnight, dear one,” whispered Obi-Wan, tentatively reaching out and brushing a lock of Anakin’s hair from his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments make my heart so happy, you have no idea! Thank you for reading and enjoying this silly thing I decided to write during my pandemic Star Wars rewatch. This might end up being six or seven chapters instead of five (there are a couple of things I’d like to add besides what I originally planned), but we’ll see.
> 
> P.S. The explanation I gave for Anakin’s scar is inspired by the storyline from _Star Wars: Republic #71_, though I’m not faithful to all the details. The comic isn’t considered part of ~the canon~ anymore, but hey, it’s a fic.


	4. Savior complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Obi-Wan and Anakin spend an increasing amount of time together, Anakin questions the nature of their relationship. Things come to a head when he remembers something sinister from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your continued interest, if you've made it this far! I appreciate you more than I can say. And how do I repay you? With an angsty chapter (sorry).

To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Anakin was still in his bed come morning.

“I should get properly dressed,” Anakin said with a yawn. “Meet me at the dining hall in an hour?”

Obi-Wan was dumbfounded, but he agreed.

On the way to the refectory, Obi-Wan was intercepted by Ahsoka, who insisted on tagging along with him. She was obviously thrilled to see Anakin but spent most of the morning being uncharacteristically quiet, as if she were observing him (and, to a lesser extent, Obi-Wan).

“You’ll have to come spar with me the moment the old man gives me the go-ahead,” Anakin told her.

“Of course,” said Ahsoka, suddenly beaming. “But I won’t go easy on you just because you’ve been maimed.”

In the days that followed, Anakin was practically joined to Obi-Wan’s hip. Obi-Wan continued the time limit of their lessons to avoid putting a strain on Anakin’s mind, but the younger man seemed to want to hover around him outside of that. “So, what’re we doing now?” he always asked cheerfully. He basically only left Obi-Wan’s side to go to the Halls of Healing for regular check-ins.

Their days stayed generally quiet. Obi-Wan might’ve forgotten the galaxy was at war, if he really committed to it. He walked Anakin through the library, reading aloud from history and fiction. He even schooled Anakin on fighting techniques, though he insisted they were only talking about such things _in theory_ for the time being. Ahsoka sometimes found them sitting amongst the shelves. She would curl up with her knees tucked to her chest, leaning against Anakin while he, in turn, pressed against Obi-Wan. During those times, Obi-Wan felt the weight of everything around him dissipate.

Hours after darkness fell over Coruscant, Anakin always showed up at Obi-Wan’s quarters, shaken by dreams, and Obi-Wan would ease his mind with stories of victory or funny moments from their training days. He wondered if they’d ever let up the pretence of going to bed separately so Anakin could just fall asleep in his room in the first place. _No, best not_ , thought Obi-Wan. He’d torn down the majority of his carefully-constructed boundaries in the span of a week. Some of them better stay intact, at least.

One afternoon, Obi-Wan nestled was in the library with Anakin—just the two of them—when he had an idea.

“I want to show you something,” he said, snapping his book shut. Anakin looked at him quizzically. Visibly intrigued, he followed Obi-Wan’s lead without question.

There were so many lovely parts of the Jedi Temple that Anakin probably didn’t remember. The Meditation Garden was one of them. The timing was ideal: afternoons were a less busy time of day for the gardens, as they were typically occupied early in the morning or late in the evening. Obi-Wan wasn’t taking Anakin there with the intention to meditate, and he wanted them to be able to talk without being shushed by the likes of Mace Windu or Plo Koon, or whoever.

Upon entering the room, Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s sharp intake of breath. The walls were lined with leafy vines. Streams snaked through the grass, all connecting to a crystal clear, fish-filled pond. Butterflies floated through the air and punctuated the overall vibrance of the gardens. The air felt welcoming: warm with just a touch of humidity.

“Green is my favourite color,” Anakin said. He spoke as if he’d only just realized it. Even though there was no shortage of benches, he helped himself to a spot of the grass. “So, what is this? Botany lesson?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Just a change of scenery,” he replied. He sat opposite Anakin, who continued to survey the room. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Anakin looked there, lips parted in awe at the foliage and flowers.

“Do you mind me asking what the healers have been telling you?” asked Obi-Wan, only speaking to halt his own daydreams.

“No, it’s fine,” said Anakin. “They say I seem to be progressing, but the progress is slower than they’d hoped.”

“I see.”

Anakin dragged his organic hand along the grass beside him.

“Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. About Before.”

Right. The capital-B _Before_. It had become a shorthand between the two of them, simpler than saying “before the traumatic brain injury, before the memory loss, before both of our lives broke apart.”

“You can ask me anything, dear one,” said Obi-Wan.

“OK. So. Were we...” Anakin gestured vaguely with his hands. “I don’t know how to put it. I mean, were we together?”

Had Obi-Wan been drinking tea, he would’ve choked on it. _“Romantically?”_

“Ouch. Say no more,” said Anakin, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “I can tell that was the wrong question.”

“No, no,” Obi-Wan managed to reply. “It’s just…Well, we’re Jedi. We aren’t allowed to have emotional attachments.”

“That’s not really an answer, though.”

Obi-Wan never would have lied to Anakin. Not about something like this. Still, he wondered what Anakin’s reaction would be if he told him _yes_.

“We weren’t,” he said quickly. “We’re not.”

Anakin furrowed his brow, suddenly earnest again. “Huh.”

“That surprises you?”

“A bit. You’re in almost every fuzzy little memory I have. I suspected we were pretty close.”

“I suppose we are.”

“Yeah,’ said Anakin. “Right.”

_Force. This is my fault_ , thought Obi-Wan. _I’ve done an abysmal job of concealing my feelings._

“You seem disappointed,” he said. 

Anakin shrugged. “I just thought I’d successfully unpacked something, that’s all.”

“Listen.” Obi-Wan leaned forward. “You’re very important to me. I’ll be here for you, whenever you need, until you’re recovered.”

“What if I never do?” 

“Don’t concern yourself with that right now.”

Obi-Wan refused to consider that possibility. Not yet. He regarded Anakin, who was now leaning back on his forearms, his eyes following the insects that circled above. The situation definitely could’ve been worse. Obi-Wan listened to the rush of streams in a stunning garden, (temporarily) free from the obligations of commanding a battalion. He was able to be with his favorite person without a Jedi mission attached. However, he understood it didn’t feel like a vacation for Anakin. It must’ve been more like limbo.

Then Anakin broke the silence.

“You know,” he began. “When I woke up I didn’t know where I was and...as soon as I saw you...I thought, ‘it’s going be fine. This is home.’” He paused. Obi-Wan felt his stomach twist into knots. “I like being with you. Is that all right?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said softly. “Yes, of course.”

That night, Anakin was sleeping soundly on his side, turned away from Obi-Wan. As he dozed, Obi-Wan caught himself thinking about tracing a finger along Anakin’s back. He scolded himself. His feelings were inappropriate at best, unethical at worst. Even without all the knowledge of the last thirteen years, Anakin trusted him. 

Obi-Wan never intended to feel like _this_ about Anakin. He was practically family, and Obi-Wan wasn’t willing to break that bond for anything. Not even love. On the rare occasion, in The Before, he’d allowed himself to imagine that Anakin returned his feelings. Those moments were sparked by a lingering glance, a touch, or words that—if Obi-Wan read into them—could mean _more_. But, for both of their sakes, he ended up dismissing it each time. Anyway, there was no room for romantic attachment during a war. He’d already learned that the hard way. Putting aside the Code, the Republic....Obi-Wan didn’t have it in him. Perhaps that was due to selflessness. Or maybe it was cowardice. 

He rolled onto his back and, facing the ceiling, he drifted off to the sound of Anakin breathing. 

* * *

Anakin left Obi-Wan’s room early to go to the Halls of Healing. It was refreshing, in a way, for Obi-Wan to have the morning to himself. He knew he’d been unwise to let Anakin stay with him day in and day out. His excuse? Anakin needed him. He was vulnerable and in recovery. If he wanted to spend most of his days with Obi-Wan, perhaps the best thing to do was to allow it. Once Anakin was better, whenever that was, the attachment would pass.

Wouldn’t it?

There was, however, the small matter of _Obi-Wan’s_ attachment. He'd been in denial about it for at least a year. Possibly more. When Anakin no longer depended on him, they’d go back to the way things once were. It would hurt, yes—Obi-Wan would ache whenever he thought of their days wandering the Temple together or the nights they spent in his bed. But it was better for both of them for this strange new relationship (or whatever one might call it) to come to an end. They would always be connected in other ways. That would have to be enough.

_It doesn’t have to end today_ , Obi-Wan reminded himself. _Or tomorrow, for that matter. I’ll know when to let go, when the time comes_.

Just then, he felt a slender hand grab hold of his wrist. He spun around and looked downward. It was Ahsoka, locked onto him with an intense expression.

“Where did you come from?”

“I’ve been calling after you, Master. Do you have bantha crap stuck in your ears?”

“Er, just...very focused on quieting my thoughts,” said Obi-Wan. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Well, we need to talk,” said Ahsoka, her voice much lower.

Obi-Wan didn’t bother protesting as she dragged him along. She’d get him to listen to her sooner or later, so he figured he might as well make things as quick and easy as possible. Once they came across an empty corridor, she halted and turned, staring daggers at him. Ahsoka had always been bold, but she appeared to have reached a new level.

“What are we going to do about Anakin?” she said.

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone before he responded. All clear. “I don’t think there’s much more we can do. His progress has been gradual, I know, but—”

“No, Master Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka interrupted. “What are we supposed to do about the fact that he’s _in love with you?_ ”

“Ahsoka!”

“Don’t act so scandalized. I know you can see it as well as I do.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Obi-Wan shot back, retracting his arm from her grip.

“He looks at you like you’re the two suns of Tattooine,” said Ahsoka.

“He actually wasn’t too keen on—”

“Master. Open your eyes.”

“You forget yourself, young padawan.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms over her chest. “I may be young, but I’m not dumb. Anakin has been trying put the pieces of his life back together. If you’re not careful, he’ll end up shattered all over again.”

“I assure you, it isn’t like _that_. The connection between us is nothing more than friendship.” As the words fell out of Obi-Wan’s mouth, he didn’t believe them himself. “But you are right about one thing. Anakin has been leaning on me too much. And I’ve let him.”

“It’s not my intention to overstep,” said Ahsoka. “It’s just that—I’m worried about him. And you.”

“I appreciate that.” Obi-Wan forced a smile. “But I should be going.”

“Just promise you’ll think about what I said.”

“Have a pleasant day, Ahsoka.” He all but sprinted in the opposite direction.

* * *

The conversation with Ahsoka echoed through Obi-Wan’s mind for the rest of the day. He avoided all the places he thought he might find Anakin, including the library, the Meditation Gardens and even his own dorm. He was so on-edge, he almost jumped out of his skin when he ran into Mace Windu.

“Ah, General Kenobi. Just the man I was looking for.”

Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to evaporate into the Force. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he said, hoping he was able to conceal his existential dread with pleasantries.

“Council would like to meet with you tomorrow morning,” said Windu, “in regard to a mission.”

“A mission? Off-planet?”

“Yep. A lengthy one, I’m afraid.”

Obi-Wan surveyed Windu with confusion. “Anakin,” was all he managed to say in protest.

“Skywalker will be fine,” Windu replied. He raised an eyebrow. “He’s not your responsibility, you know. He may not remember it, but he was knighted three years ago. He isn’t a padawan anymore.”

Obi-Wan wanted to argue. He would have, if he hadn’t been concerned about Windu getting suspicious.

“You’re right,” he said. “I worry, though, that he may end up being a bit of a headache for you and the rest of Council if he’s left to his own devices in his current state. Perhaps one of you could contact Senator Amidala. I’m sure she would be pleased to host him while I’m gone.”

“You really think Skywalker needs adult supervision?”

“You don’t?”

Windu pursed his lips. His overall distaste for Anakin wasn’t a secret. He wouldn’t want Anakin wandering around Coruscant alone (or worse, with Ahsoka in tow) any more than Obi-Wan did.

“I’ll bring the idea up to the other councillors,” conceded Windu.

* * *

If Obi-Wan wasn’t looking forward to seeing Anakin again before, he certainly wasn’t now. How was he going to react when he told him of the mission? All the meditation in the universe couldn’t calm the conflict in Obi-Wan’s brain. If it was true what Ahsoka said—if Anakin was in love with him—that was bad. Objectively bad. _And yet…_

As it turned out, Obi-Wan’s instincts to steer clear of his quarters for the day had been spot-on. He returned to his dorm later in the evening (when he’d run out of reasons to wander the Temple) to find Anakin leaning against the wall by his door.

“Hey,” muttered Anakin. To say he didn’t look well would have been sugar-coating it. Whatever had happened in the twelve hours they’d been apart, it certainly wasn’t anything good.

Obi-Wan looked at the sweat clinging to Anakin’s neck for a moment too long before his eyes flickered away. Opened hurriedly moved to open the door, let his distressed friend enter the room and followed behind him.

“I had a vision,” said Anakin. He spun around to look at Obi-Wan.

“A premonition?”

“No. It’s something that already happened.”

He sounded out of breath, as if he’d been running. He flinched when Obi-Wan drifted closer, but he didn’t resist when took him by the hand.

“Come here,” said Obi-Wan, gently leading him to sit on the side of the bed. He took a seat beside him, close enough for their thighs to touch. “What did you see?”

Anakin hesitated. Then, he said, “My mother.”

“Oh, dear one,” said Obi-Wan. Anakin didn’t have to say the vision was about her death—that much was clear. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not just that.” Anakin shifted, turning most of his body to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze. “It’s what happened after.”

“After? On Geonosis?” Some part of Obi-Wan knew that couldn’t be what Anakin was referring to. He sensed his fear in the Force. This was something...darker.

“Oh, kriff,” said Anakin. “You really don’t know?”

“You never spoke much of your mother’s death,” admitted Obi-Wan. “I tried, once or twice, but you insisted I drop it.”

“I can see why.”

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I think it’s important that I do.” Anakin laughed bitterly. “But I’m afraid.”

Obi-Wan studied his face, awash in moonlight. He had sensed Anakin’s fear before, but this was the first time he’d actually heard him verbalize it. “Afraid of what?”

“You’re going to hate me. And I’m going to deserve it.”

“That’s not going to happen. I might be disappointed, but Anakin, I...”

Obi-Wan tried to reach Anakin through the Force, pushing affection and reassurance towards him.

“I was too late to save my mother. She died in my arms,” said Anakin, his eyes glassy with tears. “I wanted them to pay.” 

He flexed his durasteel fingers into his palm and squeezed. His gaze dropped to the floor. “I killed them, Master.”

“You...You killed the Tusken Raiders who kidnapped your mother.”

“Not just the ones who took her,” Anakin choked out. “All of them. The whole clan. I let myself completely lose control.”

“And you’re certain this vision is real?”

“I can still hear the screaming in my head. I can’t even distinguish mine from theirs.” Anakin shook his head. “All these days I’ve wanted to learn who I am. Now that I know, I wish I could give that knowledge back. I’m no better than those who murdered Mom. I’m a monster.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan placed his hands on either side of his former padawan’s face and gently turned it towards his own. “I will not condone what you did. It was monstrous. But it does not make you a monster.”

Why give Anakin _this_ memory back? What was he supposed to do with it? And what was Obi-Wan? His heart pounded against his chest, feeling the waves of Anakin’s shame and terror all at once. 

“I failed you,” said Anakin. 

“I failed you just as much,” Obi-Wan replied, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “I could have done more for your mother. The moment I realized Qui-Gon had left her to remain a slave, I should have insisted we rescue her. I was newly-Knighted and too cowardly to push the Council, but that’s no excuse.”

Anakin let out a sob that shuddered through his whole body.

“We have to let go of the past. Working on controlling your rage—that’s something I can help you with.” A small voice in Obi-Wan’s head wondered if Anakin was already too far gone. He hadn’t just broken the Code, he’d given himself over to the dark side—temporarily, at least. “You have to promise me there will be no more secrets like this. If you ever feel you’re losing yourself again, you must tell me.”

“Of course. But you...how can you forgive me so easily?”

“I have confidence in the good I see in you. Forgiving yourself is the challenging part.” Yes, that was paramount. Self-hatred would only cause Anakin to sink deeper. “As for me...it's never been difficult to forgive you, Anakin. You’re the brightest light in my life.”

Before Obi-Wan even knew what was happening, Anakin kissed him.

It was clumsy, at first. Obi-Wan was still holding Anakin’s face in his hands, and when he kissed him back he tasted the salt of both their tears. Obi-Wan hadn’t realized he was crying, too. He wanted to lose himself in it, to respond in kind as Anakin pressed his body against his own, desperate and frantic.

Instead, he broke away, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “No. No, we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” said Anakin, breathless. “You’ve said it yourself. I’m not one for following rules.”

“It’s not about rules. I can’t go there with you.”

“Because you don’t feel the same?”

Obi-Wan stared at him. Even with reddened, kiss-swollen lips and tear-stained cheeks, he was stunning.

“I’ve felt more in the past week than I’ve felt...maybe ever,” Obi-Wan sighed. “But you’re not in your right mind.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” snapped Anakin. He pushed himself up from the bed and stood in front of Obi-Wan, who was taken aback by the bite his former padawan’s voice. It had been a while since he’d seen Anakin’s temper. He felt it now, too, like a firestorm swirling through the Force. “You think _brain damage_ made me fall in love with you?”

“You’re not in love with me. You’re confused.”

“Oh, shut up! Don’t try to tell me what I’m feeling. Something this strong—it had to have always been there. I’m sure of it. The only difference is I’m willing to _say it_ now.”

“When you wake up—truly wake up—you will regret it. And you’ll resent me for taking advantage of you.”

Anakin let out a huff. His demeanor mellowed as he looked at Obi-Wan, but he wasn’t going to back down yet.

“And if I don’t wake up? I could be like this for the rest of my life. And if I am, don’t I deserve to be happy?” He reached out and cupped Obi-Wan’s face in his hand, as if it were something delicate. “Don’t you?”

Obi-Wan turned away from his touch. “It would be a lie. I love Anakin, but you’re not—”

“I am!”

“No,” Obi-Wan said coldly. “You just wear his face.”

Anakin took a deep breath but said nothing more. During the long silence, Obi-Wan debated taking it all back, but he knew he could not. He did feel responsible for Anakin, despite what Windu or anyone else might say. Up to this point, Obi-Wan had let his emotions cloud his judgement. Letting Anakin trail behind him like a pet and sleep beside him like a lover? It was selfish. He had to set it straight, even if it hurt.

“Go,” he whispered.

Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to argue, lean into his hotheaded nature and demand they talk this through. But he left the room without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not very creative with titles, so I steal them from Phoebe Bridgers.
> 
> _All the bad dreams that you hide  
>  Show me yours, I'll show you mine_


	5. Lightyears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Ahsoka leave Coruscant for a mission. Meanwhile, Anakin turns to an old friend for support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little longer than usual. It’s been hella humid here, I’ve been dealing with work stuff and just haven’t been feeling super well. But I digress! This chapter is from Anakin’s POV and not as angsty as the last. I hope you like it!

Anakin woke up in his own quarters for the first time since he’d risen from his coma. It felt wrong. His head pounded like he’d had one too many glasses of nectarwine. He squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to push back against the pain, and the events of the night before came rushing back.

The vision. The kiss. The words after. _I’ve managed to mess up the one good thing in my life right now._

Anakin brought his hands to his head and rubbed his temples. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day. He could, he supposed. No one would stop him. But as he well knew, sleep gave no respite. He couldn’t stop thinking of his mother, weak and battered, drifting away while he held her. And then there were the Raiders, who he’d slaughtered without a second thought. 

Obi-Wan was right. Partially, anyway. Anakin _was_ confused. Not about his emotions—he was sure about what he felt for Obi-Wan—but his own identity still puzzled him. In the few memories he had gained back, Obi-Wan was consistent. So was Ahsoka. Anakin himself, on the other hand, sometimes seemed like two different people. He could be violent or gentle, serene or unhinged. Polar opposites in one body. It unsettled him.

Nevertheless, sinking into his misery wasn’t going to solve anything. Once Anakin’s headache dulled, he willed himself from his mattress and got properly dressed. He used the Force to open his door. Although Obi-Wan had warned him that Force use wasn’t meant for “frivolous” tasks, he’d acknowledged that starting small would help Anakin get in tune with it again.

Upon leaving his room, Anakin considered going straight to Obi-Wan’s. He quickly reprimanded himself.

_He doesn’t want to see me._

The hallways were abuzz with people who, unlike Anakin, had already risen at a reasonable hour of the morning. He was relieved to eventually find Ahsoka—a friendly face—but his relief faded when she immediately informed him that he looked “like death warmed over.” She asked about Obi-Wan, which made Anakin wonder how obvious he’d been this whole time. He brushed her off and, when he suggested they do a couple of rounds of sparring, she stopped pushing. (Obi-Wan hadn’t yet signed off on Anakin practicing physical combat. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Anakin said. Ahsoka readily agreed.)

At dusk, though, they sat together in the refectory and she prodded once more. 

“Hey, Skyguy,” she said. “Are you feeling down about me and Obi-Wan about to go off on that mission? Because we’ll be fine. We always are.”

Anakin froze.

“Wait. What?”

* * *

Anakin knocked, rather indelicately, on Obi-Wan's door. He half-expected to be ignored, but Obi-Wan opened it almost immediately. The dark circles under his eyes suggested last night hadn’t been any more restful for him than it’d been for Anakin. Even like this, the sight of him made Anakin’s heart race. 

“Don’t go,” he blurted. He was making a fool of himself, but he didn’t care. There was no room for ego—not when the man he loved was going to be shipped off to the other end of the galaxy.

Obi-Wan peered down either end of the hall before grabbing Anakin by the arm and pulling him inside.

“I must follow orders, Anakin,” he said, firmly closing the door behind him. “You know that.”

“Then let me come with you. To keep an eye on Ahsoka, at least.” He knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t agree. Still, he had to try. It may have been a direct order for Obi-Wan, but Ahsoka had volunteered to go, due to feeling “useless” at the temple. It wasn’t right—not while Anakin still needed them.

“That may be the worst idea you’ve ever had,” said Obi-Wan. “And that’s a high bar.”

“I’m sure I could fight. You know, muscle memory. Or something.”

“Even if you _could_ , getting hurt again before you’re fully recovered would almost certainly do irreparable damage. It might even kill you.” Obi-Wan looked away. “I can’t lose you.”

Anakin longed to close the space between them, hold him and never let him go. The night before no longer mattered. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” he said.

Their respective words hung in the air. It wasn’t quite “I love you,” but for Anakin, it was as close as he dared to get (for the time being). If he couldn’t make Obi-Wan stay, he could at least get him to stop shutting him out. Probably. Maybe.

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Would you stay with me tonight?”

Anakin blinked. He felt like he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor. “Yes,” he said, too quickly. “I mean. Yep. I can do that. Whatever…whatever you need.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I’m not implying anything. Besides sleep.”

"Yeah. No. Neither am I.” His face was turning red, Anakin was sure.

“Good. I have to meet with Council again, but...come back in an hour?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Good,” repeated Obi-Wan. The way he said it made Anakin dizzy.

Anakin perhaps should’ve been marginally angry at Obi-Wan. He had been cruel, even if only for a moment. But the truth was, Anakin just wanted to be at his side again, especially if Obi-Wan was about to vacate the planet for six weeks. (Six standard weeks. That’s what Ahsoka had told him.)

“There’s really nothing I can say to convince you not to go,” said Anakin. It wasn’t a question.

“It’s not about convincing _me_ , Anakin. No part of me relishes being part of this war,” said Obi-Wan. “Senator Padme Amidala is taking a few days off in Naboo and she’s happy to host you there. After that, the two of you will return to Coruscant together. She’s more pleasant company than I am. Trust me.”

Anakin nodded, unconvinced. His recollection of Padme was nothing more than a small series of flashes of her face. Most of what he knew about Padme came from Obi-Wan’s stories, and if he said she was a friend, Anakin believed him. But it wouldn’t be the same.

“See you soon, Master.”

* * *

In Obi-Wan’s bed, things almost felt back to normal.

Well, if you could call it that. It was the closest thing to “normal” Anakin had known since his coma. But there were still the residual implications of his…confession. He didn’t want to pretend it never happened, but he didn’t want to scare Obi-Wan away, either. Lying there, face-to-face, Anakin searched his dysfunctional brain for the right words. Luckily—and to his surprise—Obi-Wan spoke first.

“I owe you an apology,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. It’s just...”

“I get it,” Anakin interjected. “I’m not the one you knew. Just pieces of him. That must be painful.” It was painful for Anakin, too, but that wasn’t the point. “You became my whole world overnight. It’s not a fair burden.”

“You’ve never been a burden to me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. He looked as if he was holding something back, and confirmed as much by changing the subject. “You’ll like Naboo. It’s a beautiful place.”

“Maybe.”

“I can’t be your only connection to your old life, Anakin. You’ll never recover that way.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to be shipped off in different directions.”

“Don’t be so stubborn.” Obi-Wan smiled weakly. “We’ve both survived trials more perilous than a few weeks apart.”

Anakin wondered if some part of Obi-Wan felt as crushed by the situation as he did. He so desperately wanted to kiss him, but he settled for touching his hand instead. There was a pull between them that felt stronger than the Force, and it took all of Anakin’s willpower to push back against it. He’d been so lost in the beginning. In many ways, he was still a mess, drifting along in what sometimes felt like someone else’s life. But with Obi-Wan, he had a connection. Safety. Belonging. 

Perhaps if he’d remembered enough to really know the consequences of it, he would’ve had more reservations. He knew in his heart that he was being short-sighted—it just didn’t matter to him. 

“I’ve been thinking,” said Anakin. “What if I left the Order? I could do that, couldn’t I?”

Obi-Wan looked startled. “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself.”

“I would, if…” Anakin began, then retreated into himself. Even if there were parts of him still slumbering somewhere in his brain, Anakin knew he wanted Obi-Wan. The feeling wasn’t mutual, though. Not completely.

“If…?”

“If I could be with you.”

“You don’t fully know what you’re asking for, Anakin. We’re at war. Like it or not, we are a part of it.”

“And when the war ends?”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply. He smiled again, but Anakin recognized a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be perfect,” Anakin continued. “But we could have a life together. I could make you happy, I think.”

“You already do.” Obi-Wan reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “We can…discuss this further when I return.”

Better than a no, at least. And did Obi-Wan just say Anakin made him happy? Even amid all this disaster? He turned to face the ceiling and hoped it was too dark for Obi-Wan to see his huge, stupid smile. _I make him happy. Thank the Force, he’s happy._

“Tell me a story about us,” Anakin said.

* * *

Anakin didn’t dream. Or, if he did, he couldn’t remember any of them—good or bad—when he opened his eyes. The chronometer on the wall read ten hundred hours. Steam rose from a cup on tea on the bedside table.

_Obi-Wan._

Anakin sat up quickly and, to his relief, his old master was still there. He stood fully dressed, leaning against the counter of the kitchenette and holding his own tea in both hands. He was considerably less dishevelled than the night before, with his auburn hair perfectly in place and an attentive look in his eyes. Anakin bit back the urge to ask him to stay just one more time.

“You should’ve woken me,” Anakin said instead.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “It didn’t feel right. You looked so peaceful.”

“When do you leave?”

“Well.” Obi-Wan placed his mug on the counter. “I was supposed to be in the hangar ten minutes ago. The choice was making you up or leaving without saying goodbye. I didn’t want to do either.”

Anakin felt a lump form in his throat. _No. No tears._

“You’ll be taken to Naboo later this afternoon,” continued Obi-Wan. “Padme is looking forward to seeing you. Did I ever mention you made her protocol droid yourself? I’m sure seeing both of them will jog your mind…”

As he spoke, Anakin got out of bed. Six weeks. Close to six times as long as he’d had him, Obi-Wan would be gone. So would Ahsoka. He hadn’t asked if they’d be fighting battles, doing negotiations or some mixture of the two. He didn’t want to know. The mere idea of either of them getting hurt was too much to even imagine.

Anakin made his way to where Obi-Wan was standing and, briefly, thought about kissing him again (Really, though, who was he kidding? He was always thinking about kissing him). He wordlessly pulled Obi-Wan into a hug and, despite the height difference, leaned down to bury his face into Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Goodbye, Obi-Wan,” he murmured. “I love you.”

Obi-Wan returned the embrace. “May the force be with you, Anakin.”

He didn’t want to let go, but he did. Obi-Wan slipped out of his arms and out of the dorm, taking Anakin’s heart with him.

* * *

As much as Anakin wanted to fly himself, that proposal received a hard _no_ from the healers. He understood, but it felt strange to have a pilot flying him to Naboo, like he was a package getting delivered.

Upon his arrival, Padme was waiting for him on the tarmac. She looked rather different from Anakin’s vague recollection of her on Geonosis, but she was beautiful all the same. She wore a pastel yellow gown and her dark brown hair curled in ringlets around her shoulders and down her back. As Anakin exited the ship, her face broke into a bright smile.

“Ani!” she called. He waved awkwardly in return.

Unlike Obi-Wan, Padme didn’t bother showing restraint during their first post-coma reunion. She hurried over to Anakin, threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. “I’ve been so worried about you, my friend.”

There was something recognizable in the way she held him. He hugged her back, unable to shake the feeling that he’d _missed her_ without knowing it.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch,” she continued, letting him go. “I thought it best to give you some space, after all you went through. It must be overwhelming to be surrounded by strangers claiming to be your friends.”

“It’s all right.” Nothing was all right, of course, but that was hardly Padme’s fault.

“We have much catching up to do,” she said. “But first, I imagine you’re tired from your flight. Let me show my place. And, most importantly, your room.”

Anakin was tired indeed, though it had less to do with the short journey and everything to do with—well—everything else. He followed her lead.

* * *

After a short rest, Anakin ventured into the living room of Padme’s lake house. The far wall was lined with glass, allowing for a spectacular view of trees, water and a cerulean-blue sky. Obi-Wan had been correct, as usual. Naboo was gorgeous.

“Oh! The maker!”

Anakin startled, taking his eyes from the windows to see a golden droid hurrying over to greet him. _This must be the one Obi-Wan mentioned_.

“Master Anakin, I understand you may not recognize me! My name is—”

“C-3PO,” Anakin said, unsure how he knew it.

“Dear me!” The droid raised his arms. “You remember.”

Anakin opened his mouth to speak again, but Padme walked into the room before he could say anything else. “Oh, Threepio.” She laughed, the skirt of her dress fluttering around her legs as she moved. “Didn’t I tell you—?”

“Apologies! All apologies,” said the droid. Anakin hadn’t realized droids could have anxiety, but this one definitely sounded like it did. Leave it to him to create such a thing. “I just wanted to say hello.”

“Understood. I’m afraid I’m about to steal Anakin from you, though. You’re dismissed for the time being.”

“Of course, milady.” The droid scurried away with its arms still partially outstretched in front of it. What a strange machine.

“Sorry,” said Padme. “I’d asked Threepio to steer clear of you until at least tomorrow morning. He’s a wonderful droid, but as you can see, he can be _a lot_. I worried his, um, high-strung nature might be stressful.”

“So. I built that?”

Padme beamed. “You can’t have him back, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m quite fond of having him around.”

It was refreshing, if odd, to have Padme joke with him as if nothing was wrong.

“I’d love to go for a stroll by the lake before the sun sets,” she said. “Care to join me?”

“Sure.”

As Padme guided Anakin outside, the sun was dipping low in the sky. A cool breeze moved through the air. He was almost rendered speechless by the sight of the lake she’d spoken of, which sparkled like crystal. 

“This place...how do you ever bring yourself to leave it?” said Anakin.

“Sometimes I ask myself the same thing,” replied Padme, falling into step beside him. “As trite as it sounds, I do love my job.”

“I’d be a terrible politician.” Anakin shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t think I’m any good as a Jedi, either.”

“That’s not true. You’ve helped me dodge assassination attempts more than once.”

“Wow. It’s bizarre to be around people who know me better than I do.”

“I’m sorry.” She sounded dejected, and Anakin immediately regretted his retort. 

“No, don’t be. You’ve been so welcoming and I’m being an ass.”

Padme nudged him with her elbow. “If you weren’t being an ass, I wouldn't have recognized you.”

Anakin liked her already. The pair came open a veranda overlooking the water, and Padme paused by the railing. Suddenly, something clicked in Anakin’s mind.

“I tried to kiss you here!” He felt a combination of amusement and horror.

“Yes!” Padme giggled. “It went rather poorly for you.”

“Of all the things I could remember now. The Force is clearly working against me—that’s just cruel.”

“Ani, I promise we’ve gotten past that,” she said, still grinning. She reached out to take his hand. “That was years ago. You only pouted for a day or two, and now we’re such close friends.”

Anakin waved her hand away, only to clutch his chest in mock-pain. “Ugh. Say no more. I can’t believe I’ve survived so much of the war only to die of embarrassment on Naboo.”

“You’re so dramatic. But I’m glad your memories are returning. Come, let’s keep walking.”

Anakin gave up on the theatrics and offered Padme his arm. When she took it, Anakin knew they’d walked like this many times before. “I’m surprised you’re not married,” he said. He couldn’t have been the only person who appreciated an attractive, intelligent woman who knew her way around a blaster.

“I don’t have time for such things, unfortunately.” She shrugged. “Or fortunately, depending on how you look at it.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, romance can get complicated.”

“You think?” 

She looked at him suspiciously. “What’s happened?”

“Uh, nothing.” Anakin diverted his gaze from Padme to the lake. Maybe it would be easier to lie if he didn’t have to look at her. _Force_ , had he always been this bad at lying, or was it a side effect of his injury? “I was just agreeing with you. You know, generally speaking.”

“Anakin Skywalker,” she said emphatically. “Who?!”

“It’s really nothing.”

Padme narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.” Apparently, Anakin wasn’t going to get himself out of this conversation easily.

“OK, so maybe it’s something,” he conceded. “But he has some hesitations.”

“Oh. Another Jedi.”

“Padme, are you inside my head? Are you secretly a Force manipulator?”

“I’ve been told I have good intuition. I also _know_ you.” She patted his arm with her far hand. “So, it’s a ‘he.’ It’s not Quinlan Vos, is it? I always thought he was quite handsome.”

“No, it’s not Quinlan. Do we have to make this into a guessing game?”

“Not if you just tell me.”

Anakin bit his lip. Well, she wasn’t _wrong_.

“It’s Obi-Wan.”

“Kenobi?!”

“No, the other one.” Anakin rolled his eyes. “Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Model Jedi, war hero, infuriating human being.”

“Oh, Ani,” she sighed, her expression softening. “You’re in love with him.”

“I am,” he said. “But he seems to think it’s just, I don’t know, concussion-induced lust or whatever.” He intentionally left out the part about the kissing. He didn’t want Padme to think he made a habit of such things (though it definitely sounded like he did).

“Hmm. I think he’s afraid,” she said.

“Of what?”

“Well, he’s obviously afraid you’ll break his heart. But believing you really do love him—that would be scary, too. It could change his whole life. Not to mention, you were once his student.”

“I’ve grown since then,” Anakin interjected.

Padme nodded. “I know that and you know that. But, well, Obi-Wan takes his duties seriously. His instinct is always going to be to protect you.”

Some of the most endearing things about Obi-Wan were also the most frustrating. His loyalty to his responsibilities was at the top of that list, but Anakin hadn’t considered that his feelings actually scared him.

“Then what can I do?”

“I’m not sure, Ani. Perhaps this time apart will be good. You’ll come back to each other with clearer minds.”

“I hope you’re right.” Anakin looked back at his friend. “Thanks, Padme.”

She planted a kiss on his shoulder, and the two of them watched the sky fade into pink and orange with the setting sun.

* * *

The week on Naboo went by in a flash. Anakin wished he were staying longer. The striking flora and fauna that decorated the planet made the Temple’s Meditation Gardens seem dull by comparison. Padme even persuaded him to get in the water on a particularly temperate day. If it weren’t for Obi-Wan, Anakin probably wouldn’t have left.

And _oh_ , how he longed for Obi-Wan. Thoughts of him subsided during the day, but Anakin couldn’t escape them when he was alone after dark. One sleepless night, Anakin tried to reach out to him. If only he understood the Force the way he did Before. He closed his eyes, unsure if it was even possible to bridge the distance from Naboo to…wherever Obi-Wan was at that point. He pictured his face, weathered but beautiful, and pushed the emotions swirling inside him out into the Force. _Be safe_ , he whispered through his mind. Then, something like an answer came. It sounded like, _Be strong_. Anakin may have imagined it—or he may have been talking to himself—but he chose to believe Obi-Wan had received his message and graced him with a reply.

* * *

Back on Coruscant, Anakin spent most of his time doing what Obi-Wan would want him to do: getting back in tune with his abilities as a Jedi. When Padme wasn’t working, Anakin spent a great many evenings at her apartment near the Senate. The more he saw Padme, the more he remembered from his teenage years. He’d really had quite the crush on her in those days. He couldn’t imagine being with her romantically now, of course. However, her support had been unwavering. While conscious of his condition, she didn’t treat him like some breakable thing. It felt as if they were two friends picking up a conversation they neglected to finish years ago.

In the back of his mind, Anakin was still counting down the hours until Obi-Wan and Ahsoka returned. It wasn’t as agonizing as he imagined, especially since Padme was more than willing to listen to him vent about his visions, but he still missed them. Obi-Wan especially. He missed his bed, the way his voice sounded when he read aloud and even the sound of his breathing when he meditated. Days turned into weeks and Anakin wondered, with a hint of anxiousness, what things would be like between them when he saw Obi-Wan again.

 _Three more days_ , Anakin mused. He stood on Padme’s balcony, feeling as closer than ever to being “complete.” There was still much he didn’t understand, but he finally believed he _would_ recover. He’d be himself again. Wait, no—not just himself. Anakin Skywalker had been slowly but surely drowning in darkness when he fell into his coma. He didn’t want to go back to hiding his demons from his friends. He’d have to work to make sure he didn’t slide back into those dangerous ways. Perhaps these two identities, the new Anakin and the old, could fall together into a Jedi who embraced the light while still (to an extent) staying true to his rebellious self.

Just then, Anakin felt a ringing in his ears. It took him a few seconds to realize it was internal. The Force? No, this was his head. A sharp pain prickled at the base of his skull and his hand flew to the back of his neck. _Kriff_ , this was excruciating.

“Ani?” He heard Padme’s voice say. She must’ve just come out behind him, but he was in too much pain to answer. He spun around to look at her. The concerned expression on her face was the last thing he saw before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, my lovelies, for reading as always! I smiled when I saw almost 150 Kudos today. I am thinking the next chapter will be the final chapter, but I may do a little epilogue/bonus chapter after that. 
> 
> BTW if you’re looking for another Star Wars fic feat. memory loss, I started reading Asylum by Spongyllama and I recommend it! Part One is not obikin specifically, but Part Two is. It’s much longer and in-depth than my little fic, and it's a very impressive piece of work. 


	6. Up from a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promised a happy ending and here you shall receive. Obi-Wan has to deal with just a LITTLE more angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, and thanks for tuning in to this near-plotless fic that mainly exists for my personal escapism and obikin fantasy. This chapter gets spicy for a second but there's no porn (SORRY).

Obi-Wan had always been able to compartmentalize his emotions. It’s what made him a good Jedi and, perhaps regrettably, a good soldier. This was much more difficult to do when it involved Anakin, but it was possible, and that ability was what kept him sane over the course of the mission. There was no room for preoccupation with romantic entanglements during negotiations or conflict.

On the way back to Coruscant, everything Obi-Wan felt before he left came trickling back. What was so terrible about him and Anakin being in love, anyway?

Well, he knew the answer. He had a list of answers. There was the Order, to start. Then there was the age difference. Aside from that, they’d probably kill one another if they lived together. It didn’t make any sense for Anakin to be interested in him. And yet, he was. Not _just_ interested, in fact: he wanted to _be with him_. Obi-Wan had brushed it off at the time with intention of dealing with it later, but “later” was getting closer and closer every minute _The Negotiator_ moved through space. For the first time in a long time, Obi-Wan seriously considered doing the selfish thing. As soon as he got off the ship, he wanted to take Anakin in his arms and say “Yes, let’s give it a try.” He wanted to kiss him senseless the moment they were alone. To hell with the rules. Maybe getting so close to losing Anakin a sign—a sign that read, _“Stop wasting time.”_ It wouldn’t be easy, but they’d figure it out.

He was so caught up in his fantasy that he barely registered the ship docking in the hangar. Good thing Ahsoka had been flying.

“As dull as the temple can be, I’m sure as hell looking forward to sleeping somewhere other than a ship,” Ahsoka said, flicking every switch needed for shutdown.

“Dull? The temple is never dull with you and Anakin stirring up trouble,” quipped Obi-Wan. He couldn’t help but smile. “I, for one, would be very thankful for a dull day.”

Ahsoka smirked and motion for him to lead the way from the cockpit.

Obi-Wan’s face fell when he saw it wasn’t Anakin waiting there as they made there way down the ramp, but Padmé. His stomach lurched. For Ahsoka’s sake, he did his best to conceal his fear. The two of them walked over to meet her. She looked frightfully pale.

“Senator Amidala.” Obi-Wan said.

“Obi-Wan. Ahsoka.” Padmé’s eyes darted between them. “It’s Anakin. He fell into another coma three days ago. He came to, just thirty minutes before you arrived, but he’s very weak.” 

Obi-Wan swallowed. “Senator, I hope you’ll forgive our rudeness if we—“

“Yes! Yes, please go.” 

Padmé stepped aside. And so Obi-Wan ran, assuming Ahsoka was at his heels. Fortunately, everyone in their path seemed to leap out of their way. He didn’t even have to fight when he asked to see Anakin in the Halls of Healing—the healers knew as soon as they saw Obi-Wan that there was no use in arguing. 

He wished he could hide his face, but the bright lights gave him away: Ahsoka could almost definitely tell he was silently crying. It didn’t matter. They both rushed to Anakin’s bedside, where a dreary Jedi looked up at them sleepily.

“Heeeey, Snips,“ Anakin croaked. “Master, are those tears for me?”

Obi-Wan hastily wiped his cheeks with the heel of his hand. “Anakin, I—“

“Is Artoo all right? Where's Rex?”

“Your droid’s unscathed. Everyone is, except you,” said Obi-Wan, puzzled. “Hold on. What’s the last thing you remember?”

"Being too close to a large explosion. What else?” 

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan looked at each other. Drowsy as he was, Anakin still detected the tension right away. 

“What? What’s that look for?”

“So, the last thing you remember is the battle,” said Ahsoka.

“Well, yeah.”

This should’ve been good news. _It_ is _good news_ , Obi-Wan scolded himself. Losing seven weeks of memory was a small price to pay if this meant all of Anakin’s long-term memories were back in place.

“I’m going to fetch a healer. I have some questions,” said Obi-Wan. He felt as if his insides had been torn from his chest.

* * *

Anakin was back. Whole. Obi-Wan had no right to mourn him. This is what he had wanted. Whatever had risen between them, he’d have to let it go. Yes, he loved him. That wouldn’t go away easily, if at all. But he could accept his emotions while keeping them at bay and staying true to his duties as a Jedi. That was one trait he had that Anakin had yet to master: controlling his passions. 

Just six days after Anakin had woken up, it felt like the last two months had been nothing more than a dream. Ahsoka trailed Anakin a little more relentlessly (kind of like she had when he initially took her on as a padawan), but otherwise, everything seemed so _typical_. Anakin didn’t ask much about the time he had lost, so it wasn’t hard for Obi-Wan to prevent him from sensing that anything was amiss. He was sure the moment the healers gave them the go-ahead, he would be back in the field—and their next mission would likely be together. They were “The Team,” after all. As long as Obi-Wan could keep Anakin from noticing the conflict in his mind, everything would be fine.

Mostly, it was. But Obi-Wan was oscillating between keeping his distance and, occasionally, being a bit too overbearing. “You don’t need to ask about my headaches every time you see me, Master,” Anakin had said. Then there was Ahsoka. Obi-Wan would occasionally stare at Anakin a touch too long, then pry his eyes away and see her giving him a pitying look. She never said anything, even when Anakin was out of earshot. She didn’t need to. While she had previously guessed that Anakin was in love with Obi-Wan, she’d since picked up on the fact that Obi-Wan was in love with Anakin, too. _Damn_. He had really thought he was adept at hiding these things. Ahsoka knew him too well.

As usual, however, Obi-Wan buried his emotions. And, as usual, everything was fine until it wasn’t.

Obi-Wan was pacing his quarters instead of meditating like he should have been. He’d been doing a fair amount of pacing lately. Suddenly, his door burst open—obviously by use of the Force. Obi-Wan abruptly turned to meet the intruder and, as he’d already sensed, it was Anakin.

“You know,” said Obi-Wan, “knocking is considered polite in most societies.” His sarcasm did nothing to lift the mood.

“Don’t.” Anakin slid the door shut behind him with a slam. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?”

“About us.”

Obi-Wan felt a shiver run down his back. “You remember.” He thought his legs might give out, so he moved to sit on the foot of his bed. Anakin was still standing in the middle of the room, wearing an unwavering glare. “And you’re angry with me.”

Anakin scoffed. “You think?”

Oh. This was bad.

“You must understand,” Obi-Wan said, “you’ve had a harrowing experience these last two months. I was trying to protect you.”

“I’m not a child,” countered Anakin. There wasn’t any venom to his voice, Obi-Wan noticed. He sounded _hurt_. 

“I realize that,” he replied softly.

They looked at one another for what felt like ages. Obi-Wan was at a loss, unsure whether to apologize for keeping it from him or just apologize for letting anything happen between them in the first place. But that was the trouble: he wasn’t sorry. He should have been—he knew that—but if he was being honest, he knew he’d do it all over again. He even felt glad Anakin remembered, because that meant their connection had been more than a dream. It was real, if temporary.

“Do you take it back?” Anakin was moving closer to him, now. If Obi-Wan reached out, he could touch him, which was truly the only thing he wanted to do. “Tell me that much, at least.”

“Anakin, please.”

“‘I love Anakin,’ you said. Did you mean it or do you take it back?”

“Anakin, we...”

“It’s a simple question.”

Obi-Wan had to tilt his back slightly to meet Anakin’s gaze. “No,” he said. “I don’t take it back.”

“Then I don’t understand,” Anakin said, “why you were willing to just move on like it was nothing.”

“I wanted to—”

“Force, Obi-Wan. Don’t say _protect me_.”

Obi-Wan felt a pang of shame. It was true, he had wanted to protect Anakin. But there’d also been an element of self-preservation. “You were not quite yourself.” _I’d love any version of you_. “I wasn’t sure how much of it was real, or if you’d recover and feel differently.” _I just didn’t think any version of you could love_ me.

Anakin shook his head. “You think you’re so wise and all-knowing,” he said, “but there’s a lot you don’t know.” He knelt on the floor so he and Obi-Wan were face-to-face. He took both of his hands and Obi-Wan felt the spark from the touch he’d been yearning for. “Shields down.”

He said it with such conviction that Obi-Wan didn’t think to question it. He closed his eyes and focused on nothing but letting Anakin in. 

Their Force bond came alive, awash in warmth and light. There was no other word for the feeling pulsing through it. It was love: familial love, romantic love, passionate love. A current ran through Obi-Wan’s entire body. Then, Anakin let go—not of his hands, but from their Force bond.

“That was beautiful,” Obi-Wan managed.

“I wanted to show you how I feel. About you,” said Anakin.

Their hands were still clasped together.

“Three years back—I think on the way to Christophsis? I was flying the ship, which you hated.”

“You are a reckless flyer,” said Obi-Wan.

“I don’t even remember what I said. Some stupid joke. But the way you laughed...” Anakin trailed off. “I thought, _if I could make him this happy all the time, I would do whatever it takes_. I knew I loved you then.”

Affection and anguish swirled in Obi-Wan’s chest in equal measure. Things were still complicated—woefully complicated—but Anakin had been wrestling with the same feelings for as long as _he_ had been. 

“I never meant to hurt you, dear one,” said Obi-Wan. “The time we spent together after your injury...it wasn’t nothing. It was everything.”

Anakin inhaled sharply before his lips crashed into Obi-Wan's. This had been building for a long time. Not for weeks or months, but like Anakin said, for _years_. Obi-Wan caressed his cheek and kissed him back, gently but deeply. It was different from the kiss they’d shared before: it didn’t feel desperate. It was euphoric and unafraid.

He became so dazed by the fire coursing between them that he wasn’t certain whether he fell back onto the bed himself, or if Anakin gave him a little push. Either way, Anakin was on top of him now and Obi-Wan’s hand had migrated to the back of his neck. He could sense Anakin’s desire. It was practically spilling out of him. Obi-Wan felt much the same. But when Anakin started tugging at his belt, he broke away and placed his free hand on Anakin’s chest, nudging him back ever so slightly.

“Slow down,” he chided.

“You don’t want—?”

“Of course I do. I just care too much about you to rush.” As pleasant as it would be, there were probably a few conversations to be had before they slept together. It wasn’t about breaking vows (Obi-Wan figured that ship had flown). He did, however, want to be cautious with handling Anakin’s heart. “You still have much to learn. Patience, for one thing.”

Anakin sighed and moved his hands from Obi-Wan’s belt to his shoulders. “I hate how rational you are.”

“It’s a challenge. Especially when you’re straddling me like that.”

“Should I stop?”

Obi-Wan kissed him softly on the jaw. “I have an idea.”

They undressed one another in slow, languid movements. Obi-Wan was familiar with many Anakin’s burns and scars, but there were some he’d never seen, like a mark that ran across both of his thighs. They drank each other in, taking turns tracing the other’s skin. When Obi-Wan touched his durasteel arm, Anakin tensed a bit, seemingly embarrassed. “Don’t be foolish,” Obi-Wan whispered, and Anakin relaxed in response. He never wanted Anakin to draw away from him again. In some ways, it felt more intimate than sex. They said little and, after some time, Anakin’s passion cooled until he was content to simply curl up next to Obi-Wan’s body. They were lying skin-to-skin and closer than they’d ever been.

Obi-Wan didn’t want to say anything that would spoil it, despite all they had to talk about. Anakin, with his head tucked under Obi-Wan’s chin, spoke first.

“I love you,” he said.

“And I love you,” Obi-Wan breathed, finally allowing himself the release of saying the words aloud. “But, Anakin, you must realize it’s never going to be that simple for us.”

“I know.”

“I can’t just leave the Order while there’s a war going on. And besides, we mustn’t abandon Ahsoka.”

“I know.”

“And you—I can’t combat your darkness by loving you. That’s your battle and yours alone.”

“I _know_.” Anakin absentmindedly drew his finger along Obi-Wan’s chest. “Don’t dwell on the past and future, Master, be mindful of the present.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Mmph. A little.”

“What I’m trying to say...” He gently tapped Anakin’s chin so he’d look at him. “I don’t want any half-measures. I don’t want to have a sexual relationship until we have can have a real relationship. And that will have to wait until after the war, whenever that is.”

“And I thought only Siths dealt in absolutes?”

“You’re not funny.”

“Too bad. You’re stuck with me.” 

“ _Anakin_.”

“All right, all right.” Anakin nuzzled into Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan wished they could travel through time and come out the other side in some beautiful cabin on a planet with an abundance of greenery. 

For now, this would have to be enough. And as Obi-Wan Kenobi wrapped his arms around Anakin Skywalker, he felt like maybe it could be.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might be wondering: where is Palpatine? Short answer: He just didn’t figure into my narrative. Long answer: I think there’s an alternate version of this story in which Anakin’s memory loss pushes him towards Palpatine/darkness rather than Obi-Wan, but that’s just not the story I wanted to write. My thought process is that, while he expected Anakin’s mind to weaken due to his injury, his power over Anakin actually faded during this time. When he lost his memory so too did he lose his fears.
> 
> I briefly considered a scene in this chapter in which Anakin has to fight Palpatine in his unconscious mind, but whenever I tried to write it, it felt kind of shoehorned in. Since I wrote this story primarily for fun, I just canned it. I also think if Anakin learned to fully trust in other people, it would’ve been much harder for Palps to manipulate him. He got what he needed from Obi-Wan and Padmé and, as a result, didn’t need to lean on that old fuck anymore. So that’s that.
> 
> I left the story just a little open-ended, so if you want to imagine what happened next, you can. However, I am almost certainly going to write a short fluffy little post-war epilogue. Like, pure fluff. As in: war is over and everything is fine now. So if that sounds like something you want to read, stay tuned. I’ll write that…idk. Soonish.
> 
> LASTLY, I am so heartened by the response this fic has gotten. It started off as a lockdown coping mechanism and honestly just a goofy thing I thought maybe three people would read. Those of you who have passed on kudos and comments have made me SO happy. You have no idea. Special shoutout to those of you who commented on every dang chapter as they came out. You’re the best.
> 
> UPDATE: I put the epilogue in a separate work in this series, in case some readers want to let this ending stand on its own. I might write another work or two to tie in with it, though I can't say for sure. MUCH LOVE. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come find me on Tumblr @emotionaltombstone.


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